Everlasting love
by you-make-me-wander
Summary: Taking a leap of faith, Stiles and Lydia start dating during senior year.


**Let's have some smut, shall we?**

**This is not a 'friends with benefits' fic and it's set Post S4. Stiles and Lydia's feelings come out, they act on it and they go from there. There will be comedy and romance and family moments throughout the fic and smut will happen from time to time. Probably how S5 should go! Yeah, getting way ahead of myself here, I know…**

**Chapter 1**

"Here," he says, throwing the empty plastic bag in the trash can and giving her a gummy worm. She takes it from him eagerly, grinning because he gave in and offered her the last one when he'd been so adamant in all his playful stubbornness not to, but her joy fades quickly to make way to something else entirely, and yet again Lydia Martin finds herself sexually frustrated over Stiles Stilinski when he plops down on his bed beside her and turns on his stomach, returning his attention to his textbook and completely oblivious of Lydia's eyes on him.

She's horny and it's been hard on her lately, mostly because she's spending all of her free time with him these days – when he's not with someone else, that is. And the thing is that she gets so frustrated over his stupid self that what bothers her most is that she can't get off until she gets home and it's been driving her nuts. And today it's the sweatpants. And yes, she's aware that it's not really his fault. It's Saturday and they've been in all day studying and they didn't plan on going out so, of course, the poor boy just put on some sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie. And he's her best friend; he shouldn't have to dress up just because she's there.

He lost the hoodie about an hour ago and Lydia is not sure if she's thankful or mad that he did; looking like a frat boy was doing unspeakable things to her! Having the heater on to warm the room on this cold day had Stiles all flushed and a little sweaty, so he took it off and since then he has been showing off his arms in only his t-shirt (again, not his fault; Lydia's actually, since she's the one who decided to wear a thin, flimsy dress in the end of January only complemented by a cardigan and she's been cold all day. She did it for him, really, to catch his eye, but it backfired since he didn't seem interested in it, or in her for that matter). And the sweatpants... Well, the problem is that they fit Stiles in a way Lydia can only describe as unholy, much like the thoughts she's been having of him as of late. And right now? He's lying down beside her and facing away while Lydia is sitting against the headboard and all she can do is stare at his ass. His perfect, jaw dropping, adorable little ass. When did he even get an ass like that?

It's tortuous in all the right ways, looking at him; and it's not just his ass. It's his face (where she can't - and she's tried, mind you - find any flaws), his stupid styled-god-knows-how hair (that often has Lydia refraining herself from touching it to fix it or just, you know, running her fingers through it in general), his broad shoulders (and the way he's lying down right now, supporting himself on his forearms as he reads, only makes the muscles on his back contract just right for Lydia to bite down on her lip every other minute), his arms (for the life of her, she doesn't know when he got so athletic but all she wants is for him to pick her up, pin her against a wall and show her exactly just how strong he really is), and the way he stretches and massages his neck when he gets tired from being in the same position too long. Lydia had to work on her breathing twice already in the last hour because she keeps getting worked up over all of it. And on that note, don't even get her started on his long, skinny, clumsy fingers. Stiles is always doing something with his hands and it's beyond distracting. So distracting, in fact, that Lydia finds herself more often than not daydreaming of them (and of how he could put them to better use). So distracting, actually, that she hasn't studied at all for the entirety of the present afternoon.

Never in her eighteen years of life did she think she'd see Stiles Stilinski be the lover boy he is nowadays. And it turns her on. Badly.

It all started when, during the summer before senior year, Stiles dumped Malia and all of a sudden he was one of the most desirable guys in school and Lydia can easily understand why. There's no denying that he has become more fit over the years, more handsome and a little less awkward, let alone how much he grew in not only height (which she truly appreciates; height differences had always been on her preferences) but also personality (which she cherishes so, so much). And it wasn't just that. It must have taken Stiles about a week to get over his breakup with Malia and after that, for some higher reason, Stiles became more confident, eloquent, flirty even. Definitely seductive. And so it didn't take long before girl after girl started pining over him, Lydia included. Not that she wasn't already, she was, but much like right now she's afraid of what it might mean and where it might lead them, and with their lives, well, feelings usually mean heartbreak. It's simpler to hide it behind a mask, something she has learned to do too often.

She's infatuated and she's lying to him by omission, and she's only not telling Stiles about her feelings, raw and pure, for him. Maybe if things were different, maybe if he still wanted her... There are too many variables, too many scenarios that could go wrong and drive them apart and she doesn't want that. But she has to admit that it feels like a slap in the face every time a girl comes up to her to ask for Stiles' number. Everyone knows that Stiles and Lydia have been inseparable ever since he broke up with the werecoyote so, obviously, all the girls assume that if Stiles and Lydia are not dating, no one needs to feel threatened by the redhead, thus why the girls go to her for advice. Lydia doesn't know how the roles got reversed like this and she doesn't like it one bit, but she sucks it up. For one, if Stiles was still into her, being single would probably have Stiles swooning over her again. That didn't happen! On the other hand, it's not new that she has feelings for him, more than a best friend should anyway, but she's been finding herself being the friend zoned one.

She can't complain that Stiles started to be more outgoing, he's in his right and deep down, she admits, it suits him. He's been smiling more and looks more carefree, exactly like a teenager his age should be. The thing is that the first time a girl found Lydia to talk about Stiles, Lydia had mostly just nodded not sure of what to say, a sickening feeling settling itself on her stomach. And when Lydia asked Stiles if he wanted her to give his number to the girl and he said "_sure, why not?_", Lydia did. What was she supposed to do anyway? He's been through so much already; he could use a little fun. Not as much fun as he is having, though, because ever since the breakup over six months ago he has already slept with two girls and is on his way to the third, at least to Lydia's knowledge. And yes, Lydia has had a few flings like this over the years and with more partners in less time, she knows that, but seeing Stiles in her previous position following a path she's definitely not proud of is not doing wonders for her ego, nor for her beating heart. And how the hell is Stiles Stilinski getting laid more than Lydia Martin? It's outrageous. They should be on even ground, preferably with each other.

She's frustrated and it hurts every time she has to see him in the hallway making out with someone who's not her but she doesn't say anything. Worse is when she sees how flirtatious he's become, how much of a tease, and Lydia has thought about being in that girls' place more often than she'd like to admit. She'd kill to have him do with her half of the things she sees him do with others, but she's more than happy with how things still work out between them. He always makes time for her and they are as tight as two best friends can be. She knows all his nasty habits, his quirks, his preferences and moods the same way he knows hers and the only thing they don't talk about much are the other's conquests. Well, Stiles'; Lydia has been in a drought for months. So yeah, more than enough reasons for Lydia to be horny/infatuated/frustrated the whole damn time! How Stiles went through it in the past when it was him in her place, she doesn't know.

She huffs quietly when Stiles groans in annoyance and runs his hands through his hair, cursing lowly at whatever math problem he's struggling with. Lydia chuckles. "Need any help?"

He looks back at her, frowning. "I think my brain is fried."

"Stiles, you're more than ready for the test," she says, getting up from the bed. Her limbs are numb because she hasn't moved for two hours and that's his fault. If he hadn't looked so good, she wouldn't have been staring. "Just take a break, get your mind off of it."

He watches her as Lydia makes her way to his desk and starts placing her textbooks on her bag. "You're leaving already?"

Lydia, facing away from him, looks over her shoulder and gives him a small smile. "Yeah, I guess. If I stay for dinner again, your father might have to adopt me." She has a point. She spends more time at the Stilinski's than at her own house these days so it wouldn't be that much of a surprise, really.

He checks his phone. "Lyds, it's only 4pm."

"I wasn't even studying, Stiles." She sighs, slowly shaking her head to make her disappointment vanish; he didn't even notice. "I should get home. My mom is probably wondering where I am."

"She knows you're here." Who doesn't, really? She's always there. "Come on, Lydia. Saturday is 'me and you' day. Stiles and Lydia, Lydia and Stiles. That's us."

She still bites her tongue to stop her answer from coming out of her lips but it's too late. "Not always."

Her tone sets off an alarm somewhere inside of him and Stiles sits up on the bed, alert. Her words came out hushed and she didn't turn around. "What do you mean?"

She bites her lip, lost in thought for a second. They're friends; they should be able to talk about this. "You've just been a little absent lately, that's all."

"Is this about the girls?" He has a feeling that it might be. They rarely talk about it. "Because I give you, like, 90% of my free time, Lydia." And trust him. Even though the girls he spends time with know it's always just a one-time thing, no one seems too keen on the idea of Stiles spending that much time with the banshee. But he's resolute about it; if the only way he can have Lydia is as a friend, than he's gonna give her his undivided attention most of his time.

"More like 70% of your time," she answers, half joking, half serious. "And I know it's a lot to ask for. I don't want you to have to choose me over anyone else, Stiles." And even if it pains her to say so, she means it. Lydia feels heat rush up her cheeks as she gathers her pencils and pens. At least he's not seeing he blushing. "Weren't you gonna go out with Kylie tonight? I heard about it…"

There's been something off about Lydia lately that he just can't put his finger on and it bothers him. They know pretty much everything about each other. "Tonight is 'us' night, Lyds. And I haven't seen Kylie in almost two weeks," he replies, his senses tingling. "I mean, we flirt sometimes but that's it. There has been no one since her."

"What about Tess?"

Stiles quirks an eyebrow at her question. This can't mean what he thinks it means, right? "Tess was over a month ago, Lydia." For a brief second, his heart falters at the possibility.

She can't really seem to stop, now that she started it. "Rachel?"

Stiles gets up from the bed and stands still about five feet away from her, watching her movements and how she reacts as he lets out the words. "I'm just having a good time, Lydia. What's wrong with that?"

It pays off, he thinks, because Lydia stops what she's doing and supports herself on his desk, sighing as she lowers her head, still looking away. "Nothing's wrong with that. Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

He doesn't move either, but a half-crooked smile places itself on his lips and he can't help but to be amused about all of this. "Why did you, then?"

She glances over her shoulder and notices he's standing up. He shouldn't; nothing good ever comes out of this sort of situations. She flashes him a quick smile so he can let it go. She shouldn't have brought it up in the first place. "Just forget it."

"Lydia…"

She huffs audibly this time. Can't she just go home already? Doesn't he understand that there's something she has to do asap for the sake of her sanity? "I…" And yet she wants more of him. Lydia doesn't really want to leave. "I was just wondering, that's all…" she admits. She can go there. At least she thinks she can. It's true, anyways, and in all honesty she wants to push his limits, see where it goes.

"What about?"

Her fingers fiddle with a loose string from her bag as she debates internally whether she should turn around to face him or not. She does. It would be weird if she didn't, right? "I heard some things," she answers, blushing slightly when she catches his gaze. "The girls have been talking about you, you know?" Nothing new, though. Lydia already expected from him everything she's heard of.

"Are we gonna talk about my sex life now?" He chuckles. "Because if we are, I'm all about reciprocity. I'll have to know about yours too, it's only fair."

She smiles, the word _reciprocity_ echoing in her head. _Good to know_. "Why wouldn't we talk about it?" They're friends, they should be able to.

"Why would we?" he bites back with a grin, quirking an eyebrow and taking a step forward.

"Maybe I'm bored," she answers, smiling again. Absent-mindedly she licks her lips and as soon as she does so, she regrets it. She could be sending him the wrong message. Or the right one, depending on the perspective.

Stiles is not sure what kind of game they're playing but he wants in. Something is different about her today and has been for a while now. He takes a second to think. Lydia doesn't do things out of boredom nor does she wonder about things but well, maybe she is bored. His devilish self, however, comes up with a better answer to his inner ramblings. Could she be… "Wait, are you jealous?" The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself but he doesn't take them back. They're friends; it shouldn't make a difference.

She flinches like she just got caught. Trying to hide her reaction to his question, she stands straighter. _Get it together, Lydia_. She rolls her eyes. "I'm not jealous," she says, a smile of her own forming on her lips. "More like envious, I guess."

"What would you even be envious of? You're Lydia fucking Martin."

She sees the grin he offers her and she knows he means it in a good way and the truth is that, in the past, she had been. She had been Lydia fucking Martin, but lately she just feels like Lyds, his Lyds, and it's beyond infuriating that she doesn't know what to do about it, so she turns around again and finishes gathering her belongings to get ready to leave.

"Lydia?" When she doesn't answer, Stiles walks up to her until he's close, too close for their own good. His chest is practically glued to her back. "Lydia?" he whispers, more enticingly than they both expected.

He watches her swallow, blush covering her cheeks quickly at his proximity as Lydia tries not to give in to the smirk they both know is about to escape her lips. "What?" she asks smugly.

Stiles doesn't know what just changed but things between them are different for a fact. He doesn't know if it's the way she's blushing and avoiding his gaze but always smiling, or that she still hasn't turned around to face him properly, or that her tone sounds unlike it usually does. He leans forward a little, supporting himself on the table on both her sides and lowering his head until he's dangerously close to the crook of her neck, not giving her a chance to escape. She doesn't seem to mind, breaking into a grin and blushing further and Stiles sees it has a sign. If Lydia is finally opening up to him and giving him a chance to do something about this damned sexual tension that always seems to be between them, yeah he's not gonna waste that. "Is this your abstinence talking?"

Lydia almost can't contain her excitement. Are they doing this, really? Are they flirting? She looks over her shoulder and he's right there, so so close. "Maybe."

He smirks, the bastard. When she places her hands on the desk beside his, his thumbs move to caress her hands slowly and he whispers in her ear. "What are you envious of?"

Lydia grins and glances at him again, pursing her lips briefly. "Honestly?" He rolls his eyes and laughs. When he nods, Lydia gathers the courage to turn around on the tight space between them and faces him head-on. It's hard to tell which one of them is blushing harder but it doesn't faze them, and Lydia makes sure to let out everything in one breath, otherwise she might not have another opportunity to do so. "I hate that you're always flirting with those girls and that they stick around you like they're clingy. I hate that you spend time with them while I'm left alone without you." He opens his mouth to interrupt her but she doesn't let him. "And I know that that's not right and that I shouldn't. But I do, Stiles, I hate it." She had started her speech feeling defiant and confident but as she keeps talking, her tone turns more serious and she finds herself just stating facts, trying not to think too much of what she's actually projecting. "I hate that _they_ get to touch _you_. I hate that _you _touch _them_. And it's not fair, Stiles, I know that. It's not fair to you and it's selfish of me but that's it. That's what I envy."

For a second he just looks back at her with a blank expression and Lydia thinks that she might have gone too far, but then he gives her a smug smile. His voice comes out hoarse and that turmoil she's been feeling on her lower belly all day wakes up again. "What do you want me to do about it then?"

"I wasn't suggestin-"

He raises an eyebrow, that adorable half-crooked smile of his coming out again. "Yes, you kind of were." He's slow to move her hair away from her left shoulder, his fingertips brushing the skin of her neck making her shiver. He lowers his head until they're just an inch apart, breathing the other's air. "What do you want, Lydia?"

"I uh-" What does she want, really? For him not to see someone else? To be his girlfriend and start her life with him? For him to fuck her right there? Honestly, she wants all three but what about their feelings? What if they give in and go carnal but one of them feels more strongly than the other? What if it doesn't work and they ruin everything between them after such hard work on both parts to get them where they are now? Lydia feels conflicted, equating possibilities. At the same time that she doesn't want to do anything, she wants everything of him. It's overwhelming.

"Lydia," he murmurs softly, cupping her cheeks to get her attention and breaking her out of her trance. He's looking so fiercely into her eyes that if he wasn't holding her, Lydia is sure she would melt right on the spot. "Stop over thinking this." He smiles tenderly as his thumbs caress her rosy cheeks softly. Her heart skips a beat. "I've waited ten years just to be able to be this close to you. I can easily wait another ten, if that's what you need." Lydia doesn't say anything. "But if you want something to happen right now, well you're gonna have to tell me."

Lydia is taken aback by how forward he says it and just like that the old Stiles is back, the one who wears his emotions on his sleeve and will proclaim them without really meaning to for how easy it is for him to say most things out loud. And he's smiling at her embarrassed, blushing like the old Stiles would and she'd missed him. But what is he saying? That he wants something to happen too? "I thought you didn't want me," she murmurs surprised, too nervous to look him in the eyes.

To Lydia it felt like a confession; to Stiles it's an admission of something he's been waiting to hear for a long time; that Lydia, at some level, wants him back. "Hey," he gently pulls her chin up and meets her gaze, "I don't think there will ever come a time when I wouldn't want you." Lydia purses her lips in a smile. "In fact, I'm pretty sure that I could be eighty and married to someone else, sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by my grandkids and reminiscing about the good old times and you'd still probably cross my mind." She laughs softly tugging at his shirt and he bites his lower lip, not sure if they should continue talking about their feelings but hell, he doesn't care. Isn't something happening between them right here, right now? "I just… I didn't know that _you_ wanted _me_. If I had known, maybe things would have been different…"

They are quiet for a while staring at the other. "I think about us sometimes," Lydia says, a hushed tone escaping at her confessions. She doesn't want to hold it in anymore, not when he's looking at her like that, like he's seeing the sun for the first time the same way he did when they kissed for the first time so many months ago. Lydia sits on the desk, her fingers fidgeting on her lap. "More often than that, really. I think about us all the time." Stiles takes her hands to hold in his, waiting for her to continue. "How things could have gone differently if I'd met you sooner or after we kissed, or after Void was out of the way, after Allison…" She pauses and he kisses her forehead affectionately at the memories. "And then there was Malia and those other girls… I don't know how you did it."

"What?"

"Watching me with someone else. It's excruciating, breathtaking and poisonous, all of it crawling under my skin ever since you started seeing Malia."

She looks at him embarrassed and Stiles gives her a small smile. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You sustained it for so long, how is it fair that I don't wait the same time you did? I was scared of what it would mean for us, I still am." She exhales deeply, hoping her nerves could dissipate with the air that left her lungs. "Stiles, I care about you. That's not the problem, at all. But it's senior year and in six months everything will be different. And then there's college…"

It's like he's seeing the end of the tunnel. "With our lives, everything could be different tomorrow, Lydia. And you know, for two people who are incredibly smart, we're being really stupid. We're missing our chance."

She knows he's right. Lydia bites her lower lip nervously. "But what if we screw everything up?"

He smiles. "What if we don't?"

"You are maddening, did you know that? How come you're the optimistic one in this situation? We don't know what'll happen and it has me scared out of my mind. Haven't we all suffered enough?" Her voice turns a mere whisper. "If I lose you, Stiles, I… I remember what you said to me, that you'd go out of your mind. And it's the same for me. It has already been a few times before but now? Just thinking about the possibility of screwing us up or losing you makes me sick, especially for something as trivial as our feelings for each other or lust or…"

He cuts her off with a kiss and Lydia holds her breath, astonished. It starts slow and just a graze of lips but soon Lydia is pulling him closer and Stiles pulls her to him by the waist, her legs parting to make room for him. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss when Lydia parts her lips for him, her nails digging softly into the skin of his neck. They part panting, hearts beating fast and pupils dilated. Stiles gasps. "Don't- Don't you dare tell me that this isn't real. Don't you tell me that we have nothing to go on with, that this isn't enough for us to give a try."

Lydia looks smitten. She _feels_ smitten and she kisses him this time. A slow, chaste kiss like she's savoring his lips, getting drunk on his taste. Lydia lingers close to him when she pulls back, her hands entwined behind the back of his neck to not let him go. "I'm scared, Stiles. Before, I was scared that I wouldn't get the chance to have you and now? Now I'm scared that I do. Does that make sense?"

He steals a quick kiss, smiling. "We don't know what's gonna happen, Lydia. We could all be dead by the time we graduate." Lydia slaps his arm for the blasphemy and he chuckles before continuing. "Or some of us could be dead while the others get to graduate. Or we all live to hear your Valedictorian speech, which I'm sure will inspire a generation." That makes her grin. "Maybe you and I will be together by then, maybe not. And after high school is over, maybe we'll all stay in Beacon Hills, or some will stay and others will go or maybe we all get the hell out of this place for good. Maybe you and I will stay together in college, maybe not. And if we don't, maybe we'll still find each other in some random place five years from now and pick up where we left off or maybe we'll never see each other again. My point is we don't know. And until it happens, we never will." He takes her hands from behind his neck and squeezes them softly. "But we're here now and we feel how we feel about each other, whatever it means. And until something else comes and takes the opportunity away from us, shouldn't we make the most of it?"

She's listening carefully to his words so Stiles continues. "You grow to like someone in very different ways. Look at us. I had the biggest crush on you and you didn't even know who I was, but then we got to know each other and you started trusting me and I found out you weren't, at all, the girl I idolized. And now we're here. And there are so many things we can say about each other, our qualities and our flaws, our likes and dislikes, how much we grew in the last few years, together or apart... I'm not saying we go and profess our undying love for each other or get married and have kids, like, next week. That's not what we're about. We are friends and we care about each other. That's probably not even news in any other realm of reality," he laughs lowly. "The only reason why I didn't do anything after I left Malia is because I thought you just wanted to be friends, and even if my feelings only seem to grow for you every day, I didn't want to ruin it by making a fool of myself. The girls were distractions the same way you had yours and they don't mean anything in the grander scheme of things. And Lydia, if I can have you…" They got closer again as he spoke and he whispers the words to her wanting lips. "A few minutes ago you were about to leave. I want you to stay, Lydia. Stay."

Her lips are on his before he can fully acknowledge that she even moved. Their mouths crash together forcefully, intently, and Lydia bites his lower lip before distancing herself from him to grab the hem of his t-shirt and pull it up and off, lust engulfing them both. Stiles starts working on unbuttoning her cardigan as Lydia maps his chest with her fingertips, absently counting his moles. When she's only in her dress, Stiles gently grabs one of its straps and slowly slides it down her shoulder, peppering light kisses on her jaw and down her neck. When his attention turns to the other strap he stops, glancing at Lydia and raising a suggestive eyebrow. She laughs, pecking his lips with a devious smile. "I'm staying."

He grins, letting the second strap fall.

**Author's note: Feedback, people!**


End file.
